


The Wounds You Can See

by Suzie_Shooter



Category: The Adventurer: The Curse of the Midas Box (2014)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing It Better, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:05:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20208958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: Missing scenes from the end of the film, right after the events at the hotel. Mariah has to come to terms with the fact he’s just killed a man. Will Charity provides a sympathetic shoulder, leading Mariah to realise his feelings regarding Will are more complicated than he’d first thought.





	The Wounds You Can See

Mariah sat on the steps of the hotel with his head in his hands, trying to remember how to breathe. The air inside was still thick with brick dust and all the guests had long since fled, afraid the place was about to come down around their ears. The Bureau men had gone too, taking the box with them, and at some point even Sacha and Felix had disappeared. Mariah hadn’t noticed them go, hadn’t even heard them asking him if he wanted to come and find something to eat. It felt like his ears were full of buzzing, and he knew with a sick certainty that if he tried to stand, his legs would betray him. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there when he became aware of movement to the side and realised someone had sat down quietly next to him. Mariah looked up and realised with a twist of something undefinable that it was Will.

Captain Will Charity, last seen hanging by a rope over the edge of a cliff and telling Mariah to go, to save Felix rather than him. Mariah had taken him at his word, had had to trust he knew what he was doing, and to the fact the man seemed to have an uncanny knack for survival, but in all the confusion he hadn’t seen him since and had been harbouring a cold dread on top of everything else that he hadn’t made it. Just one more person Mariah had let down.

Mariah tried to summon a smile for him, but his lips trembled and he looked away again, not wanting to appear weak in front of him, of all people. 

Will said nothing, but shifted slightly closer until his shoulder was brushing Mariah’s. They sat there like that for several minutes, Will seemingly content to stare out to sea while Mariah gathered his strength. And somehow now it was easier to breathe, the tightness in his chest easing fractionally as he drew comfort from Will’s proximity. 

Eventually Mariah managed to sit up again, straightening his shoulders and looking properly at the man at his side.

Will smiled at him. “Alright?” he said softly. 

“Yes,” Mariah gave a jerky nod. “Of course. You?”

“A few bruises and a nasty rope burn,” Will admitted, displaying his raw palms ruefully. “Nothing serious.” He studied Mariah with affectionate concern, not wanting to push but entirely aware that Mariah was lying about being fine.

“Looks painful.” Mariah reached out instinctively, one finger brushing the side of Will’s hand before remembering himself and pulling back.

“The wounds you can see are the easy ones,” Will murmured, and Mariah looked at him sharply. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not everything can be solved with bandages and liniment. Or whisky.” He winked, and this time Mariah did smile. “Some things – some things need words to mend them,” Will added carefully. 

Mariah was silent for a while. He’d thought what he’d done would have to remain a hot, awful knowledge hidden inside him for the rest of his life, that he would never be able to talk about it, let alone want to, but in the shock of everything he’d forgotten that Will already knew, that he’d been there. 

_He’s dead,_ Mariah had answered, when the stern looking man in charge – Black? – had asked him what had become of Luger. To his relief this had been accepted at face value and no further questions had been forthcoming. He had never had to voice the second half of that sentence. 

_I killed him._

It wasn’t as if he had any regrets. In using the Midas Box to kill Luger he’d saved both Will and Felix, and the man would hardly be missed. The world was assuredly better off without him. It was just that somehow, knowing all that didn’t help. 

Once it was finally over and he’d had a moment to consider everything, the enormity of what he’d done had hit him like a sledgehammer and all the breath had gone out of his body.

“I killed him.” The words came out almost involuntarily, as if they’d been waiting impatiently there on his lips ever since he’d held back from saying them to Black.

Needing no explanation, Will nodded slowly. “Yes. You did.” 

Mariah let out a shuddering breath and a fraction more tension faded away. He’d been afraid Will would thank him, congratulate him, and it would have been hideous. But somehow he’d known not to.

“It’s never easy,” Will said quietly, not looking at him. “The first time.”

Mariah studied his profile. “How old were you?”

Will turned back to him, holding his gaze. “How old are you now, seventeen?”

“Nearly eighteen,” protested Mariah automatically, and then wanted to die of embarrassment. 

Will hid a smile. “I was just eighteen myself,” he said. “I joined the army to see the world. It certainly showed me that.” He scuffed his foot in the dust covering the steps, and glanced back up at Mariah. “It was how I met your father. We were in the same regiment. I think we both took a life for the first time on the same day.”

“How did you cope?” Mariah blurted.

“Badly.” Will gave him a thin smile, this time with little humour. “I drank an entire bottle of scotch. As coping mechanisms go, I don’t recommend it.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

Will sighed. “It’s an odd feeling. Being praised for killing someone. Commended. Even in war.”

“Do you get used to it? Killing, I mean?” 

“Best not to,” Will said. “Hardened to it, yes. Resigned to it, being sometimes necessary. But used to it? No. That’s one step away from starting to enjoy it.” His voice had taken on a harder edge than Mariah had ever heard from him before, and he’d been on the brink of apologising when Will shook himself and relaxed again.

“Sorry. This wasn’t meant to be about me,” he gave Mariah a contrite smile. “Look, I don’t want to pry, but my guess is that you’re feeling pretty battered right now?”

Mariah nodded wordlessly, and Will reached across and laid a hand over his. “It’s normal,” he said softly. “To go through everything you have today, to do what you’ve done – it only hits you afterwards. As soon as you stop for a minute, it catches up and lays you out. It doesn’t make you weak.”

Mariah wondered if that explained more about Will than he’d intended to reveal. Why the man was constantly on the move, place to place, crisis to crisis, with such manic energy. He’d thought at first he was energised by it, but now he wondered if Charity was a man simply running from his own inevitable crash.

He turned his hand palm upwards and Will folded it into his, squeezing his fingers comfortingly. “You’ll be alright,” he said. “I promise.”

Mariah swallowed, his throat tight. “I just feel so stupid,” he confessed in a small voice.

Will looked surprised. “Why?”

“Felix nearly died. Sacha lost her father. They’ve both been through worse than me today. And they’re fine.”

“Are they?” Will asked mildly.

“Well they’re not having a breakdown in the rubble, are they?” Mariah shot back hotly. 

“People don’t always react how you expect them to. Or show it.” Will rubbed his thumb idly across Mariah’s knuckles, keeping hold of his hand. “Besides, you can’t compare one thing with another if it’s totally different. It’s like comparing apples and sealions.”

That made Mariah smile, and Will smiled back. They studied each other for a moment, noting the weary fatigue in each other’s eyes, the dark shadows and blossoming bruises. 

“We survived,” Will said. “That’s worth holding onto. We survived because of you.”

“You helped.” 

“Helped!” Will yelped, then grinned at him, irrepressible even in the face of mortality. “I should ask for a raise.”

“At least you get paid.”

That made Will laugh and after a second Mariah started laughing too, feeling his spirits rise. He looked down at the hand still clasped in his and turned them over, exposing the raw burn on Will’s palm.

“Does that hurt?”

“Nah.” 

Mariah smiled. “Liar.” 

“Kiss it better if you like?”

“Alright.” Mariah knew perfectly well he was teasing, but something made him raise Will’s hand to his mouth, pressing his lips gently to his palm. He lowered it again, suddenly self-conscious and acutely aware Will was staring at him. “What?”

“You never fail to surprise me, Mariah Mundi.”

“Is that a good thing?” Mariah asked tentatively. Will laughed and took back his hand, but only to put his arm around Mariah’s shoulders, pulling him in against him. Mariah leaned gratefully in to his side, head drooping to his shoulder. “What happens now?” he asked tiredly.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of this island,” Will mused. “I suppose we could always steal a boat.”

Mariah laughed, and rolled his head to look up at him without moving from his shoulder. “I never know when you’re joking.”

Will raised his eyebrows indignantly. “Me? Always deadly serious, I am,” he declared, belying it with another wink that set Mariah laughing again. Will hugged him briefly tighter, sensing that too much laughter could easily become tears, that Mariah was exhausted and strung out and still in shock. He needed food and sleep and to know he was safe, and those were all things Will could make sure he got, at least in the short term.

But for now it wouldn’t hurt to sit here a little longer, with the distant sound of the sea and the gulls, and the warm weight of Mariah slowly falling asleep on his shoulder. While the war wasn’t over, this battle at least had been won and they could afford a moment of respite. 

Will wondered what the future would hold, and whether he could find Charles and Catherine before it was too late. Mariah, he knew, would almost certainly want to be a part of that search and he debated with himself the wisdom of letting him come along. Mariah had acquitted himself well and things were certainly easier with two, but he was still young and suddenly Will found himself wanting to protect him. 

_Trust me,_ he’d said, and immediately sent Mariah into danger. Could he face himself if he did that again? Was it even his choice to make? He sighed, and Mariah looked up enquiringly.

“Shall we see if the dining room remains intact?” Will suggested, and Mariah nodded with sleepy agreement. 

“I think all the chefs have run away,” Mariah said, taking his hand and letting Will pull him to his feet.

“If it comes to that I can cook us something,” Will declared, apparently seriously. He offered Mariah his arm, and smiled when he took it. “Although I don’t guarantee it will be edible.”

“I could eat the tablecloth, to be honest.” Mariah realised with some surprise it was true. His earlier nausea had passed, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.

“It might be preferable. I remember, there was one time in the Sudan...” 

Mariah smiled and let Will lead him inside, still rambling about food. He knew he was doing it as a distraction and was grateful to him, as he was for the discreetly offered comfort and the stout arm that kept him from stumbling. 

Most of all he was grateful that Will didn’t seem to think any less of him for his moment of weakness. After the strain of the last few days it came as a relief to feel that for a while at least he could give up his responsibilities and just let Will take charge of him.

“...and the goat was the most surprised of all.” 

Mariah blinked up at Will’s expectant face and spluttered with laughter. He had no idea what he’d been talking about, and strongly suspected he’d said that just to see if he was still listening. 

“Idiot,” he said fondly. Part of him wanted to go back a minute or two to when Will’s arm had been around him. It had been nice.

“Charming.” Will pulled out a chair for him in the deserted dining room and rested a hand briefly on his shoulder. “Wait here, I’ll see if I can scare us up a plate of something.”

“Will.”

He turned back enquiringly and Mariah hesitated, unsure what he’d meant to say. _Thank you_, perhaps. Or even, _Don’t go. I need you._

When he said nothing, Will smiled at him. “Won’t be long,” he promised. 

Mariah managed a nod, fighting to keep his eyes open as another wave of tiredness washed over him. He’d just rest them for a moment. Just a moment.

By the time Will returned ten minutes later with a tray of food and a bottle of the hotel’s best wine – because frankly they’d earned it and it wasn’t as if there was anyone left to stop him taking it – Mariah was fast asleep.

\--

Mariah woke the next morning to sunlight streaming through an unfamiliar window, to reveal he was lying in an unfamiliar bed. He sat up in surprise, wincing as a hundred bruises made themselves known. He was wearing what appeared to be his own nightshirt which suggested someone had been to his room. 

He had a moment of alarm wondering if Sacha had undressed him, before realising she’d never have been able to carry him. A trunk in the corner of the room proclaiming _The Great Bismillah_ suggested that this was Captain Charity’s room, and he relaxed slightly. It occurred to him with the lift out of service Will must have carried him up the stairs in his arms, and he was secretly sorry to have missed it.

There was a tap at the door and it opened to reveal Charity himself, who smiled to see he was awake.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” He came over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Alive.” Mariah smiled back. “Feels pretty good.” He paused. “Who undressed me?”

Will cleared his throat. “Ah. That was me. Thought you’d be more comfortable.”

“Thank you. Yes.” Mariah ducked his head, mainly to hide the fact he was still smiling, and Will caught sight of the livid abrasions circling his throat, from where Luger had tried to strangle him with a heavy length of chain.

“That looks sore.” He frowned, reaching out but not quite touching. “You should put something on it.”

“Kiss it better if you like.” The words were out before Mariah could stop them, and he caught Will’s shocked stare with his own. 

For a second Will didn’t move, and Mariah was sure he’d laugh it off. Then, seemingly satisfied by whatever he read in Mariah’s face, he slowly leaned in. 

Mariah tilted his head to expose the side of his neck and felt Will’s warm lips come to rest on his skin. It was a second, perhaps less, but it set Mariah’s heart beating wildly in his chest and he felt light-headed. He turned to find Will’s face still just inches from his own, and caught his breath. 

For a second they stared at each other, Mariah’s gaze flitting from Will’s eyes to his lips and back, seized by a reckless need for something, anything to happen.

But then Will pulled back, stood up, looking as flustered as Mariah had ever seen him.

“You should run a bath,” he advised, having to clear his throat twice before he could get the words out. “It’ll help with the aches and pains. There’s still hot water in the tanks, but with the steam engine down it won’t last long.”

“Will.”

“I’ll, um. I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Will!” 

But he’d gone. Mariah flopped back in the bed, feeling rather as if he’d just run a race. He wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened between them, or even if anything had, and flushed with embarrassment as he realised how close he’d come to kissing his friend. He dreaded to think what the consequences of that would have been, but just for a second he’d been convinced Will wanted it too. 

Trying to make sense of his confused emotions Mariah did as he’d been told and ran a bath. It was only later he wished he hadn’t wasted the time, as when he finally came down to find Sacha and Felix having a late breakfast it was to the news that Will had gone, summoned back to London and already sailing for the mainland. 

Mariah ran all the way down to the harbour but the ship was already at the horizon, too far even to wave. Mariah waved anyway, and walked slowly back up the hill with a reluctant smile on his face.

Whatever happened, he had the feeling he hadn’t seen the last of Captain Will Charity. 

\--


End file.
